#giantdwarf

As per the plan, I begin my search for the items I need to rebuild King Alvis’ statue at my inn, the King’s Axe.  I ask the innkeeper whether he knows anything about an axe belonging to the King, but he says he doesn’t: his ancestor named the inn that, for whatever reason, but there’s no axe around that he knows of.  A search of the inn, to see if the innkeeper might be lying, turns up nothing, either, so I proceed to the second part of my plan, the visit to the Consortium palace.

I enter the palace through the garden doors, and am surprised to find none of the trappings of a royal court, or even a well-appointed bureaucracy.  Rather, the activity that seems to be taking place is commerce, with multiple little shops arrayed in the palace’s chambers.  Their nature varies greatly, but I begin with the one selling clothes.  The owner, Agmundi, is none too glad to see me: she seems to be prejudiced against humans, perhaps with good reason, as the only clothes she sells are tailored to the dwarven body, and human customers just waste her time trying on wares that will never fit them.  I ask her why she won’t make human-sized clothes, and she replies that I should bring that up with her supplier, her sister over in Keldagrim-East.  She doesn’t seem to have an opinion of her, either, holding it against her that she’s ‘lazy enough’ to be living in such a dump.   Well, I’m no economist, but if she’s working for you, you’re not entirely lacking in responsibility for her living conditions…

The clothes Agmundi sells are of decent make, but nothing fit for a king, so I move on.  The shop next to Agmundi’s is a weapons forge, selling war hammers made of metal up to adamantium in quality.  The owner’s a bit of a jerk and there are no axes on sale, so I move on to check out the shops on the other side of the foyer.  Along the way, a dwarf approaches me and ask whether I can recommend an item for him to spend his money on.  Eventually, I steer him toward the idea of getting new clothes: the ones he has on, he admits, are a bit drab for Keldagrim-West.

Also on the bottom floor are a general store, which sells more than the usual range of stock, but nothing eye-popping, much less useful for my mission.  There’s also a machine shop that services dwarven steam technology and sells tools for others to do the same in their own right.  It’s not up my alley, either, but it did seem to attract a gnomish professor (this one, I can say with confidence, actually from the Grand Tree) who’s been studying the dwarven race’s technological advances.  The shop also employs an apprentice, who tells me he used to be a great engineer, but seems very much down on his luck, now.  I wonder what happened to bring him to grief…

The upstairs of the palace is where the real action is at: a grand trading floor athwart the Kelda, called the Trade Octagon, ringed by the offices of the various trading companies that make up the Consortium.  The stairs from the lower floor bring me very close to the offices of one such company, the Yellow Fortune, which is notable, I find out, for employing only women.  I continue around, visiting the offices of the eight major companies and stealing bits of their employees’ time to ask them about their business.  I first visit the offices of the Blue Opal and Purple Pewter, which appear to be quite typical.  Past them is the office of the Red Axe, about which I’ve heard a fair bit, not all of it good.  It turns out, unfortunately, that I can’t assess the rumours for myself, because the company staff are busy in a meeting with those gnomish emissaries and shoo away visitors.

I cross the Octagon, which is loud, very busy and utterly uninterested in a human who’s not selling anything, and see what companies can be found on the other side of the floor.  For starters, there’s the Brown Engine, which is known for only accepting men into its membership.  Kind of a patronising policy, if you ask me, but then again the Yellow Fortune does the same, and I don’t know enough about dwarven gender norms to pass judgment.  There’s also the Silver Cog, which prides itself on its superior management, the White Chisel and the Green Gemstone.

All this is interesting enough, but I have other things to do than watch the trading, so I climb the stairs at the back of the Octagon to see what’s on the upper floor.  This turns out to be a great, yet empty, throne room, dominated by an eight-sided table and a throne draped in brown cloth.  If I were to hazard a guess, I’d say this is where the Consortium leaders hold their councils.  It’s a stately place, but completely deserted right now.  Since there’s nothing for me to see, I descend all the way to the ground floor and check out the gallery on the eastern side of the Kelda.

Unlike the shops on the western side, the businesses here are market stalls, selling a more specialised, but not necessarily any less fine, set of wares.  The tenor is very dwarven, and some of the items on sale sound downright odd for human ears, such as the ‘freshly baked’ bread at the bakery stall that’s only two months old and hard as a rock.  Next to the bakery is a gem-cutter’s stall, whose owner, a dwarf named Hervi, dragoons me into some work: he needs tin, and he needs it now.  Not wishing to disappoint, I dash of to the bank, but alas, I don’t have enough tin there to fulfil the order.  That means a trip to the mines outside the city.  Fortunately, there’s tin in abundance there, and I’m able to satisfy the order in good time.  Hervi pays me quite generously for my services, and after looking at his wares out of politeness, I move on.

The shop next to his is selling crafting equipment, albeit with a smaller selection of items than the really renowned crafting stores in Al-Kharid and suchlike.  Since I’m not in the market, I move on, stopping at a stall that sells crossbows.  The craftsman running it, noticing my interest, is kind enough to walk me through the process of crafting a crossbow, from whittling the stock, to smithing the limbs, to boiling sinew for the string.  In addition, the guy talks me into buying a pouch for my bolts, which promises to be quite a space-saver when I’m out in the field!  Otherwise, his stock right now mainly consists of crossbow parts, and I’m not much of a fletcher (I blame my early dependence on chargebows), so I keep going.

The final two stalls of interest are a silver stall run by the Silver Cog that sells various wares of that metal, including holy symbols, and the clothes stall of Agmundi’s sister, Vermundi.  She doesn’t happen to have many clothes in stock— most of her production, except the drabbest items, go to her sister— but she’s willing to listen when I tell her I’ve got a special order for her consideration.  It turns out she’s more than willing to make some period-authentic clothes to model the statue on, but she doesn’t know much about the typical designs of the day.  For that, I’ll need to speak to the librarian in Keldagrim-West.

I thus head over to the library and ask Hugi what he knows.  Being a competent librarian, he is able to point me toward a book called the ‘Scholar’s Guide to Dwarven Costumes’, which contains drawings of many of the outfits of the dwarven kings.  He tells me it should be on one of the top shelves, being an old and infrequently consulted book, but doesn’t know exactly where.  So I look for it, and in short order find it on one of the shelves upstairs.  (I somehow missed that the library had an upstairs, last time I was here!) I check it out and bring it back to Vermundi, who studies it and tells me what I’m asking for should be very doable.  The only problem is, her sewing machine (another masterpiece of dwarven engineering!) has run out of fuel, and I’ll need to supply her with coal and wood before she can make anything.  Fortunately, coal and wood are something I have on hand, and I light up the machine.  Vermundi makes very short work of making the clothes, for which she charges me the cost of the materials: two hundred coins.  She even promises to return the book to the library for me: I get the feeling she really enjoyed this assignment!

Well, that’s one item down and two more to go: the boots and the axe.  I have no idea where I might find those, but perhaps Veldaban might, at least for the axe.  I go over to the barracks, but it’s pretty clear that he doesn’t, in fact, know anything, and is quite busy to boot.  So I go over to the weapon smith’s next door, Santiri’s, and ask him if he knows anything.  After I explain to him that I need the axe to rebuild the statue (an incident that he suspects was no mere accident) he reveals that the axe has been in the possession of his family for some time, after having been lost for several centuries.  His ancestor found it in the river, and unfortunately this means it’s in a sorry state, partially eaten away by rust and with the sapphires on the hilt missing from their sockets.  He’s not even positive that it’s the King’s original axe, but no one has a similar claim, so for all he knows, it is.  He’s generous enough to let me borrow it, but cautions that it’ll need to be restored before it’s in a fit state to be used as a model for the statue.  The sapphires should be easy enough to replace (indeed, I do so right after I’ve finished talking to him), but the metal will need the expertise of an Imcando dwarf to bring it back to its former glory.  Well, as luck has it, I know where the last of the Imcando dwarves lives, and I can probably get him to work on this project.

The last item I need for the statue are some boots of suitably fine make.  I spend a few hours traveling the city, but none of the clothiers have any leads on where I could find a pair (and Agmundi even makes me bring her tin from the mines— hell knows what for— before she reveals to me her ignorance!).  Finally, I get a lead from the armourer, Saro, who tells me he had something like that in stock: a pair of boots fit for a king!  Unfortunately, the boots were bought by Dromund, one of the wealthiest dwarves in town and a notorious eccentric, and since him having the boots in stock was very much a one-off, I’d need to negotiate with Dromund directly.

I visit Dromund in his house by the bank and Black Guard HQ.  Unfortunately, negotiations don’t go well: he initially suspects me of being some kind of spy for the Black Guard, and then flat-out rejects my offer to buy the boots off of him.  And he’s not wearing them, either: he’s got them on display in his front room as some kind of strange… art exhibit?  Ostentatious show of wealth?  Who knows?  Anyway, it becomes clear that I shall have to swipe the boots, hopefully without getting caught.  Given how suspicious of me Dromund is, though, I can’t just simply lift them… I’ll need to use magic!  I think it’s time to try a new spell that I’ve had in mind for a while, but never deployed: the telekinetic grab.  I grab a law rune and try casting the spell, but Dromund objects to magic use in his house, so I’m forced to stake out the outside.  It turns out I’m in luck, though: the display table is within sight from an open window, and all it takes is one quick hand gesture and some muttered words for the boots to come into my possession!  How long before he realises what happened, I wonder?

So, overall, quite a successful day.  The only thing I need to do before the reconstruction of the statue can commence is get the axe repaired, so it’s time to leave Keldagrim and get on my way.  I think I shall travel overland to Ardougne, following the readings on the enchanted key, and visit Karamja from there to return Kangai Mau’s tribal totem and check in with my friends in Tai Bwo Wannai: they tend to be in need of help quite often.  It’s getting late, but I get going all the same, and make it to Seers’ Village, where, of course, I have free lodgings in Camelot.

As soon as it’s light, I take advantage of the fact that the sea remains calm to get back to where I left Erjolf and bring him the Muspah tail.  Sure enough, he’s there waiting for me, or, more specifically, waiting for the trophy I’m bringing back.  Well, I show it to him, and he gets excited!  Rather than thank me, though, he asks me to keep this whole business on the down low, just in case the Fremennik elders find out that he didn’t score this trophy alone and make him do the rest of the trials in the usual manner.  Given how he sponged on me this entire time, I tell him I can make no promises.  

Well, he heads off to Rellekka to become a Fremennik, and I’m left trying to decide where I want to go next.  One thing I could do is check in with the natural historian, and tell him that the Muspah sighting was… not of an actual Muspah at all.  He’s disappointed by this, but I manage to fire up his excitement again by telling him where the Varrock museum might find that Muspah statue I unearthed in the desert.  Pleased, he gives me a spirit lamp he’s been keeping around.  I inhale… and am treated with brief flashes of visions of a craftsman at work.  Interesting.

Since I’m already here in the Fremennik Province, I get it into my mind that I might want to see if the ban on entering the city has been lifted yet.  So, I go through the mountainside tunnel and down to the river Kelda, and inquire about passage at the ferry dock.  The ferryman is most obliging, explaining to me that the Consortium’s travel ban has cost them a lot of business, so they decided to rescind it, and are even allowing humans to travel in and out of the city for free, to make up for lost custom!

The boatman starts up the paddlewheel on the boat and casts off.  Once we’re floating down the river, he tells me about the history of Keldagrim.  It’s been 500 years, he says, since the reign of King Alvis, known to history as the saviour of Keldagrim and the victim of his own inventions.  He explains: The King federated the city’s mining companies into a body called the Consortium, which was meant to serve the monarchy.  But in time, it was the monarchy that became subordinated to the Consortium.  Now, Keldagrim has no kings, and only the statue of King Alvis stands to remind its people of the old days, the dark days of monarchy.

The statue is right there on the approach to the city!  We would be passing it, but as we approach, the engine of the boat emits a disconcerting noise and the craft begins to veer erratically hither and thither.  And then the prow crashes into the statue and it falls into the water, shattering into fragments.  Well, shit.  What a start to my visit.

It gets worse, though: the moment we dock, a squad of Black Guards in gold-trimmed armour runs up and places us under arrest.  I am separated from the ferryman and dragged to the guard’s headquarters, where its Commander, Veldaban, interrogates me.  Or, rather, he wants a chat.  See, it turns out I’m not actually under arrest: the statue was due for replacement anyway, and besides, it’s the ferryman’s damn fault for losing control of his boat.  Still, he says, it would be good if I helped in the effort to recreate the sculpture, working as the assistant to Blasidar, Keldagrim’s finest sculptor.  His workshop is on the eastern side of the Kelda.  I reply that I’d be more than happy to help, which pleases Veldaban.

Before I go off to explore the city, I hang around the Black Guard HQ for a bit, even stealing a few words with the Supreme Commander, a black-bearded dwarf named Bisi.  I ask him about his relationship to Veldaban, and he explains that, while Veldaban commands the Black Guard in Keldagrim (by far the largest command), he oversees all the Black Guard regiments all over the dwarven realm.  For instance, Commander Lawgof is of equal rank to Veldaban, and subordinate to Bisi.  Aha, that makes sense.  I ask Bisi whether he’s heard any news around the city.  Of course, he says, the biggest and latest news is the collapse of the statue, but he can’t shake the impression that it’s somehow connected to the other disturbances that have taken place around here recently. The ones that led to the city’s closure.  Hm, if there’s anything to that theory, perhaps I shall find out as I work to rebuild the statue.

For now, though, I have a city to explore!  Keldagrim is a marvel to behold, a city the size of Varrock built free-standing in a massive, vaulted cavern.  The buildings are dour, squat affairs of grey stone reinforced with metal that exude solidity, and the streets are brightly lit with lantern-light.  A remarkable place, but very, very dwarven.  Even the heights of the storeys in the buildings are all wrong, my head bumping almost up against the ceiling of most of them.

I begin my tour of the city by walking about the western side.  The first building that captures my attention is a small armour-shop run by Saro, who stocks it with high-quality wares— even adamantium, which is rare in human lands except by special order from the Grand Exchange.  It would seem he’s working on something even better, a system of lightweight metal plates meant to increase the durability of armour, but all he’s got now is prototypes, and they’re extremely expensive.

The building next door is something of a dwarven stereotype: an inn called the King’s Axe, serving up dwarven stout to dwarves in search of the good stuff.  I don’t know whether it’s the time of day (do dwarves living underground follow a day-night sleep cycle?) but it’s pretty empty right now.  Still, I have a glass of dwarven stout along with a fun-loving dwarf named Gauss.  After I’ve finished my pint, I go looking for the innkeeper to inquire about lodgings.  He offers me a room, and lets slip there’s a gnomish delegation staying at the inn right now, come to negotiate with a cartel known as the Red Axe.  I’m in pretty good stead with the gnomes, so I decide to have a chat with them.  They are pretty aloof and standoffish, more so than most gnomes, though I figure they may be some of Glough’s flunkies.  After talking to them for a while, though, I get the feeling that there’s something more sinister going on: I ask both gnomes I meet where they’re from, just casually, and they give me two different answers!  The official story is that they’re from the Grand Tree, getting much-needed supplies of an unspecified nature, but the junior of the two delegates tells me they’re from Tree Gnome Village and is instantly corrected by her superior.  I don’t know what to make of it, and can’t think of any way to press them into telling me the truth, so I move on.

Along the street to the south-east, I stop by a stonemason’s workshop to see whether he would consider selling stone to a human interested in furnishing her house.  He tells me he sees no problem with that, and walks me through the varieties of stone he’s selling, from common limestone to vastly expensive magic stones.

On the same street is one of the entrances to the former royal palace, a grand hall that dominates the skyline and straddles the river.  On this side, there are the gardens (a rather shabby affair by surface standards, with only a few fly-eating cave plants and an unkempt soil-bed), where I run into an uncommonly tall dwarf named Tombar (not really the talkative sort, though) and Rind, the palace gardener, who talks to me about the intricacies of growing anything so deep beneath the mountains.  I ask him where the dwarves get their food supply, and he tells me they can grow a bit here, but most of Keldagrim’s food comes from trade via the mine cart tracks that run deep beneath the earth to various outposts.  In the Era of Kings, though, technology was more primitive, and the food situation was worse, but the dwarves never considered abandoning the underground.  I ask him why that was, and he replies that food shortages were preferable to being in the thick of the God Wars.  This state of affairs continued well into the Fourth Age, and only after King Alvis’ glorious victory over the mountain trolls did the dwarves send scouts to the surface to check on the situation.

On the northern side of the west bank, I find a bank, staffed by dwarves but fully connected to the Bank of Gielinor network.  Quite convenient!  Further on, I make a few more stops.  For instance, there’s a store selling quality weapons that even has runite longswords in stock: quite remarkable given the rarity of the metal.  I also pop into some private dwellings to ask the locals what the gossip around town is.  It doesn’t go too well.  Some, like a certain Dromund, tell me to get out, and others, like a quarrelling dwarven couple, are too absorbed in their own quibbles to spare me any time.  Fortunately, there’s a library nearby, and the librarian, Hugi (the name means ‘personification of thought’ in Dwarven) is pleased to have someone to talk to.  I ask him about the collection, and he says it’s been accumulated over centuries, from the Era of Kings, to the Rise of the Consortium, to the present day, the Era of Prosperity.  I glance through the books, but find nothing so exciting that I would put aside my exploration of the city to ensconce myself with it, so I make small talk with a human researcher— the first human I’ve seen in the city besides myself— then continue on my way.

Rather than visit the palace, which I expect will take a long time, I decide to cross over to the east bank via a bridge just upriver and look for the stonemason’s workshop.  On the banks of the Kelda, I notice a section of the cavern wall that positively gleams with rare ores.  I try to take a closer look, but a dwarf stops me, saying I’m trespassing on public property.  Okay, fair enough: access to all that ore would have been too good to be true.

East Keldagrim is a bit of a different world from the west bank.  The buildings here are smaller, shabbier, working-class.  There is no public street-lighting, only lanterns hung from houses, and even the street is a bit of a foreign concept.  Right by the bridge is a dock where I run into that damned ferryman and his boat.  I give him a piece of my mind about his shoddy piloting, but he doesn’t seem fazed; he just caustically reminds me that I got my money’s worth for the journey.  Grr.

I don’t know if it’s just my imagination, but the locals around here seem to be friendlier than the well-heeled lot over in West Keldagrim.  There’s this one dwarf, Karl, for instance, who’s not angry at me for knocking on his door, but listens raptly to my firsthand account of the collapse of the statue and my subsequent arrest.  Then, to the north of his place, there’s a shop selling kebabs, whose owner complains to me about some particularly drunken dwarves who live in the area.  In fact, I run into one of them soon afterwards: as I’m passing by his house, he throws an empty bottle in my direction!  I barge in to confront him, but see that he’s drunk well past the point of throwing the bottle maliciously: he’s hallucinating about dwarf-eating kebabs that have arrived to invade the city!  Oh dear, I hope he will be all right.

On the far eastern edge of the city are the actual slums, little dwellings carved straight out of the rock, interspersed with some actual buildings.  In one of the buildings, I find a dwarf selling decorative armguards, but he won’t sell to me, because apparently they’re not the right look for my arms (I don’t have forearms the size of a tree branch!).  Oh well, should probably have seen that coming.  Behind his house is a small coal mine where some of the locals from the cave-homes make their living.  They say I can mine there as long as I don’t draw too much attention to myself.  Alright, good to know.  

The colourful sociological observations don’t end there.  One of the locals is a dwarven male wreathed in smoke, who looks completely out of it.  Is he doing some kind of drugs, I wonder?  There’s also the mostly-deaf owner of a pickaxe shop, who sells remarkable-quality wares (even runite picks) but is burdened by his son, who is supposed to be helping him run the business but is actually kind of a layabout.  I also encounter a dwarf who’s wallowing in self-pity because after ninety years mining, all he’s got is a small house on the east bank.  I would tell him to count his blessings— it doesn’t seem like too bad a life— but I doubt he’ll listen, so I leave him be.

Further south, the character of the district turns from residential to industrial, with a number of important enterprises all located close to one another.  There’s the lava flow mine, for instance, which is off-limits to humans but provides geothermal power for the mine cart network, so is of crucial importance to the functioning of the city.  Then there’s a brewery, which advertises its alcohol by way of a drunken dwarf who walks around with a placard: apparently this is the only job he could get after being fired by the Red Axe for… not showing up to work in uniform one time too many, the brewer believes?  Anyway, their profit margins are low, so they pay him in beer.  I ask the woman at the bar if I can use the brewing facilities for my own purposes, and she tells me to go  ahead: her husband Blandebir will charge me an appropriate amount for the yeast.  I have it in mind to brew some cider, and unless I take another trip to Morytania (which, actually, I well might) this would be a decent place to do it.  But for cider, I’ll need apples, and I don’t have enough right now to make any.  What else?  Oh, the brewery has a cat, but it’s big and mean and even when I speak to it in cat through my amulet, it just glowers at me.

South of the brewery is the rail yard, a sprawling tangle of mine cart tracks that spreads its tentacles to all corners of the dwarven realm.  The main trunk line goes all the way to the Grand Exchange in Varrock, with a through stop at the Ice Mountain mines.  I ask a conductor how much it would cost for me to travel by mine cart and learn that it is free for humans: another part of the city’s bid to get business booming again.  Very useful stuff, though I still have a statue I’m duty-bound to rebuild before I feel I can leave.

Right by the rail yard, I notice a large factory building of some kind.  The foreman outside isn’t very communicative, but he lets me know that this building houses the blast furnace, which the Consortium has opened up to all and sundry (even non-dwarves, which he’s displeased about) so that it can secure the manpower needed to run it.  Since no one is stopping me from going inside, I head in and try my luck talking to the dwarves inside to find out more.  The shop floor workers aren’t much help, but I finally manage to convince a foreman to talk to me.  He tells me that the blast furnace is the pinnacle of dwarven metallurgy, cutting in half the amount of coal needed to refine ore.  The downside is that it takes a five-man crew to get the thing going, and since management refuses to pay workers anything (they argue it’s a privilege even to be working on this technological marvel!) the furnace runs idle a lot of the time and requires human volunteers at all others.  I question the logic of this business strategy, but hey, if it works for these guy, who am I to question it.

A few other dwarves are hanging around the blast furnace to support operations.  One of them is an ore merchant, who sells large quantities of ore of various kinds (nothing rarer than mithril, though) to smiths who didn’t bring, or cannot procure their own; the other, meanwhile, is a quartermaster for the Black Guard, who buys top-quality armour from smiths who can’t be bothered to market the wares they produce here.  Since the furnace isn’t running right now, though, his stock is all empty.  Well, there’s nothing really for me to do here, so I go out again and look for that sculptor.

I find his shop right by the eastern entrance to the Consortium palace.  Blasidar is a middle-aged dwarf with a greying beard who greets me with courtesy, but no special warmth— but that’s only to be expected from the dwarves, really.  I tell him why I’m visiting him and ask whether there’s anything I can help with as far as rebuilding the statue goes.  Blasidar thinks for a bit, then tells me he’s already got an assistant and a model, but could use an errand girl.  I tell him to go on.  He explains that his brief was to rebuild the statue exactly as it was, but, the dwarves not having much of a painting tradition, there exists no visual record of it.  So, we’ll have to make do and produce a plausible facsimile using ornate, but probably ahistorical clothes.  Specifically, he wants me to find a pair of boots, the fanciest I can find; robes in the royal style; and King Alvis’ axe, which is said to still survive.  He has no idea where in Keldagrim I can find these items, but wishes me best of luck anyway in finding them.

That’s… more of a challenge than I expected.  But I shall try to make some headway tomorrow (or at least, after I’ve had what would be a full night’s sleep above-ground).  I’ll begin at the King’s Axe (I’ve a feeling the inn I’m staying in has that name for a reason) and move on to the Consortium palace: if there’s one place that’s bound to have rich dwarves and fancy clothes, it’s there.

We're very excited to announce Big Head Mode is teaming up with #GiantDwarf to produce a live gaming stage show. We've been banging on for months about comedy & video games, with projects like 'On The Lounge' and our #PAXAustralia panel "Talking Funny: Comedy & Games." 'Bonus Stage' is the evolution of those ideas and we're thrilled to finally be able to share it with you. We hope to see you all at the Giant Dwarf theatre on March 25th and remember, keep on gaming (just a little bit) every day.

- Ben & Carlo

(Show details below!) -------------------------------------------

"Hey Listen!"

Bonus Stage is a live video game talk show, hosted by Carlo Ritchie (The Bear Pack) and Ben O'Brien (Big Head Mode). But it’s dangerous to go alone, so they’ll be joined by a variety of special guests from the worlds of comedy and games. With plenty of sketches, Machinima, Cosplay and of course, gaming, we’ll be getting our nerd on, accompanied by our favourite band on the citadel, Axis of Awesome’s Benny Davis and the Triforce!

And after the curtain falls, the games keep going. We’ll have a collection of classic nintendo games, board games and cards for the audience to enjoy alongside a few drinks, while the game tunes keep playing. It's the Sovngarde for gamers.

Also Starring

Jordan Raskopoulos (The Axis of Awesome)